


a destiny I can't have

by hakyeonni



Series: little incubus [2]
Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - Succubi & Incubi, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-07-28 05:57:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7627753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hakyeonni/pseuds/hakyeonni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>hakyeon finds himself falling back into jaehwan's orbit, even though everything in him tells him not to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a destiny I can't have

**Author's Note:**

> this is a sequel to [this](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7493337), and i'm just gonna go ahead and make it a series because this AU has sunk its claws into me and I doubt I'll be able to get free just yet.

_Wrong._

It’s all his senses are screaming at him, even as Jaehwan’s hands palm at his belly, his thumb digging into the dip of Hakyeon’s hip. He knows he should push Jaehwan away, turn his back and walk away, because he knows how dangerous this could become. But it’s so hard to think of doing that because Jaehwan kisses him again, deep and demanding, and Hakyeon practically melts.

_Wrong._

Damn it. This isn’t who he is; he’s never been someone to walk headfirst into peril. He’s always been careful, always looked out for himself – it’s how he’s survived this long, when so many of his kind end up dead. But then Jaehwan’s hand slips lower, to palm at his cock through his jeans, and Hakyeon just can’t bring it in himself to care anymore. Hell, if he dies, at least he’s gonna go out in a fitting way – fucking.

_Wrong._

Hakyeon tunes the voice out and gives in.

 

_back_

 

Hakyeon wakes up with a hangover.

It’s not exactly a conventional hangover, per se; this one isn’t brought on by alcohol. Those are easy to deal with, because he only has a few hours of misery before his immortal healing kicks in and his headache burns away. No, this is the hangover that he gets when he’s nearing the point of desperation, when he knows he has to feed soon or he’ll start going insane.

Well, not insane. But no one really knows what happens to an incubus who doesn’t feed – apart from them uncontrollably shifting back to their original body, of course. That’s not a problem Hakyeon has because he wears the same skin he was born in, but _still_. There’s not really a chance to go insane, because the lust will take over long before then – however that’s not an experience Hakyeon really wants to have at the tender age of three hundred and eighty six.

He staggers out of bed and down the hall, reaching into his fridge for a Red Bull and slamming it in one go. It helps take the edge off of his drowsiness, but he knows it’s only temporary and won’t last until the night – he needs to feed, and he needs to do it sooner rather than later. Which is easier said than done, really, since he’s been deliberately avoiding feeding since his encounter with Jaeh – with the nephilim the other week. Going a week and a half is already pushing the limits of what he can stand, but when he’d tried to go to a club the other night he’d found himself looking over his shoulder every five seconds, too damn paranoid to focus. He’d gone home unsatiated and aching, the frustration bubbling up on him from the inside. _Why_ , exactly, this nephilim has him so rattled he’s not sure; they flirted, they kissed, that’s it. Case closed. Hakyeon’s kissed plenty of people in his life, and now he can add a nephilim to that list.

He heads to the shower, trying to shake off the feeling of unease that envelopes him when he thinks about feeding – because what is he but an incubus, a being born to feed, to steal, to cheat death?

//

In the end, he doesn’t even have the heart to go to a club or a coffee shop or literally any of his usual haunts. Instead he digs a tattered card out of his wallet from where it’s been lingering for years, and rings the number listed on the back.

“Hello?” the voice says once they pick up.

“Sanghyuk, hey,” Hakyeon replies, chewing at his bottom lip.

There’s a moment of silence, during which Hakyeon can hear (with his supernatural hearing) Sanghyuk inhaling, and then a splutter of laughter. “Hakyeon, you bastard. I haven’t heard from you in months.”

Hakyeon flops back on the sofa, running a hand through his hair and smiling. Sanghyuk never fails to make him smile – he has a wicked sense of humour, if a bit evil. “Yeah, well, I haven’t had trouble picking up until now. You free tonight?”

Sanghyuk is a hooker – call guy, streetwalker, hustler, prostitute; whatever you want to call it – and a damn good one, too. Hakyeon had met him in a club a few years ago and had gone home with him. He hadn’t known, at the time, what Sanghyuk’s chosen career was, and had he known he probably wouldn’t have proceeded to have mind-blowing sex with him. People who have sex often, and especially for a career, don’t give Hakyeon much of an energy fix. But Sanghyuk is always available, and always willing (provided Hakyeon pays), and doesn’t care about his soul getting corrupted and the time taken off his life – it’s enough to tide him over in the meantime, and that’s all that matters.

“For you? Always. But I’ve moved into a new place. I’ll text you the address,” Sanghyuk replies easily. “See you tonight. Oh, wait. How will I know it’s you? You’re not gonna shapeshift, are you?”

Hakyeon smirks. “No, I’ll be myself. Unless you _want_ me to be someone else…”

“We can talk about that when you get here. See ya,” Sanghyuk laughs.

Hakyeon hangs up the phone and lets it drop onto the sofa next to him. He hadn’t meant to tell Sanghyuk what he was. In general, humans aren’t meant to know about the existence of the supernatural such as him, but he’d gotten drunk one night and it had slipped out after Sanghyuk’s incessant questions as to why he felt so tired after they had sex. But Sanghyuk had just shrugged and said he figured it was some weird shit like that.

_“You mean you can shapeshift into… anyone?” Sanghyuk asked, leaning forward salaciously. “Anyone at all?”_

_Hakyeon rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Any person, any species, anything. But the bigger the changes are, the more energy I use. So to do this…” he’d shifted his eye colour from their usual deep brown to a striking light blue, watching as Sanghyuk’s eyes widened, “...is easy. Barely costs anything. But to do something like_ this _…”_

_He was showing off, he knew, but he couldn’t resist the opportunity; in his lifetime only a handful of mortals knew what he was, and for other immortals there was nothing special about his powers. So he couldn’t resist a bit of grandstanding. Which is exactly what he was doing: shifting into a carbon copy of Sanghyuk right in front of him, watching as Sanghyuk scooted backwards, his eyes wide._

_“This uses a lot of energy,” Hakyeon said, but it was Sanghyuk’s voice and Sanghyuk made a choked sound. “So I need to replenish.”_

_And with that, he’d leaned forward and kissed Sanghyuk. Kisses in general didn’t give him a huge transfer, and even less so from Sanghyuk, but the energy flowed into him anyway and he felt Sanghyuk stiffen beneath his hands._

_Sanghyuk pulled back and cocked his head, like he wasn’t exactly sure what he was looking at. “You fucking weirdo!” he’d cried after a moment, smacking Hakyeon on the arm. “I made out with myself! Eww. Change back.”_

_Hakyeon did, although it was kind of hard to when he was laughing so hard he could barely breathe. “The look on your_ face! _Oh my god…”_

Hakyeon smiles up to the ceiling. He and Sanghyuk have had some great times together, even if he keeps trying to persuade Hakyeon to use his shapeshifting powers to do something ‘cool’ like rob a bank or pretend to be a cop. And sure, it’s probably not the most scrupulous of relationships considering Hakyeon pays for sex and takes energy in return, but whatever. Sanghyuk doesn’t seem to care.

//

Afterwards, Hakyeon lies on his back and exhales shakily. The energy wreathing him is familiar, homely; even more so because it’s Sanghyuk’s. Next to him, Sanghyuk flings his hand out across the bed to hit him on the chest dramatically. When Hakyeon looks over, he looks pale and shaky, but he’s smiling.

“Will I ever get used to that?” he breathes, reaching for the bottle of water lying on his bedside table.

Hakyeon rolls over on his side to face Sanghyuk, brushing the hair back off the younger man’s forehead. “Probably not. But we can stop, if you want. I don’t want your heart to give out on me.”

“Are you kidding?” Sanghyuk splutters, catching Hakyeon’s hand and bringing it to his lips to kiss it quickly. “This is the best fucking sex I’ve had in months. And that’s saying something.”

Sanghyuk’s words make Hakyeon, somewhat inexplicably, think of Jaehwan, and the kiss they’d shared. It wasn’t the best kiss Hakyeon’s ever had, and he’d even had energy _taken_ from him – it shouldn’t even register on his consciousness, especially as he’s riding the high of Sanghyuk’s life force. But it does, and it must read on his face, because Sanghyuk touches his cheek gently. “Hey, you okay? What’s up?” Hakyeon doesn’t say anything, and Sanghyuk raises an eyebrow. “Is this something to do with why you can’t get laid?”

“Asshole,” Hakyeon snaps back, but he doesn’t mean it and Sanghyuk rolls out of the way of his swat. “I guess so. Something super weird happened at the club the other week…”

When he’s finished explaining, Sanghyuk is sitting up, his hair tousled and mussed, an eyebrow raised skeptically. “So you’ve been too spooked to hunt properly because of one asshole? Who cares? If he’s so dangerous, he won’t show his face again. You have people who deal with that, right?”

“Angels,” Hakyeon replies absentmindedly. “Angels hunt them down.”

“So just call up an angel and have them take him out! Honestly, hyung, you over think things,” Sanghyuk chides, getting off the bed and yanking on his pants.

Rolling his eyes, Hakyeon makes a half-hearted effort to sit up, as well. The initial high of Sanghyuk’s life force has faded, which makes it easy to assess how much energy he has – and it’s not much. He’ll have to feed again in less than 24 hours, and the thought of that makes him blanch. “It’s not that easy. It’s not like I can just look them up in the telephone directory. They’re celestial beings who work for God and do what they want.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever. Higher powers. I don’t believe in God, so that information is useless to me,” Sanghyuk informs him, pulling a shirt over his head and putting his hands on his hips. He’s taller than Hakyeon, and never before has he looked so motherly. “Come on. I know you still have to feed. You have to get over your complex.”

Hakyeon gets up properly and shifts himself taller, so he’s a standing a few centimeters above Sanghyuk, who just grins lazily. “It’s not a fucking complex,” he mutters, reaching for his jeans.

Alright. Maybe it is a complex.

//

They make it to a club in Itaewon. Hakyeon complains the entire way about how he would have dressed better if he’d known Sanghyuk was going to take him out, but then the younger man points out he can just shapeshift on clothes, what is he complaining about, and that settles that. The only other excuses Hakyeon can come up with are flimsy at best and he knows Sanghyuk would see through them in an instant, so he tags along reluctantly all the way, even downing the shots that Sanghyuk buys dejectedly. The club is full of young and attractive people, but Hakyeon’s not interested in the slightest; all he can think about is the possibility of Jaehwan being here, a possibility that fascinates him as much as it terrifies him, and that in itself terrifies him. So he drinks and drinks until he’s drunk and has to lean on Sanghyuk for support, who holds him up unfalteringly.

“Hyung…” Sanghyuk yells over the din. “You need to feed.”

Hakyeon shakes his head, stubbornly, although he’s not sure why he’s being so recalcitrant, now. Something… Something in the back of his head is warning him against feeding, even though Sanghyuk is so warm against his side and it’s starting to ignite deep-rooted instincts. “No. Can’t.”

Sanghyuk tuts. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re the older one by about four hundred years and i’m always babysitting you...” he mutters before grasping Hakyeon’s chin to yank his head around and kiss him.

The vodka Hakyeon’s had has lowered his inhibitions completely, and the lust that was lurking underneath the surface returns with a vengeance. He slides his arms around Sanghyuk’s waist and pulls him close so they’re flush, deepening the kiss as he feels Sanghyuk’s life force begin to flow into him. It’s so little, so so little, and he wants _more_ , he’s _hungry_ , and this isn’t enough.

Sanghyuk yanks away and mock-glares at him, but Hakyeon can see his chest heaving. “You’re fucking scary when you do that,” he tells Hakyeon, breathless. “Now _go_. I’ll watch out for this mysterious half-angel dude. Tattoos, right? I can’t miss him. Go, hyung.”

Propelled by a push between the shoulderblades, Hakyeon goes in a daze, staggering towards the dance floor. The energy is wreathing him, sending up a beacon to everyone in the club, and he feels eyes on him as he starts to dance, completely out of it thanks to the alcohol and his overpowering lust. It doesn’t take long before he’s approached, and Hakyeon pounces on the stranger with a fierceness that is unlike him, dragging him to a dark corner and shoving his hands down the human’s pants. For a while he loses himself, forgets about Jaehwan and Sanghyuk and everyone else around them, focused on nothing but the pleasure and the rush that he gets. This human, when he comes groaning into Hakyeon’s neck, doesn’t give him a huge high, but that’s fine. He has all night.

Time goes all funny after that. He doesn’t know how many humans he makes his way through, making up for the past week and a half of nothingness. Each time, the energy is such a head rush, burning through his body and setting him alight from the inside, so that when he returns to the bar to find Sanghyuk he’s practically floating and everyone’s eyes are on him.

Except Sanghyuk isn’t there. Which isn’t a big deal, really, he’s probably gotten bored. Except when he fishes out his phone to see if Sanghyuk’s texted him – he always does when he leaves, it’s a habit of his – he sees it’s silent and there’s no messages. That strikes him as odd, and he leans on the bar and tries to focus through the pleasure filling him, overflowing, making it hard to do anything let alone think. Okay. So if Sanghyuk didn’t go home, then he’s probably picked up, and is getting off in the bathroom. It’s happened before.

Hakyeon goes to check the bathroom and comes up empty, and it’s here that a chill settles over him. He’s drunk and high and can’t walk two steps without swaying perilously, but he knows he needs to find Sanghyuk and he needs to find him _now_. Thanks to Hakyeon’s kiss – and other stuff, earlier – other supernaturals will be able to smell him from a mile away. Incubi and succubi won’t bat an eye (he knows pretty much every one of them in the city) but vampires? Werewolves? Fae? They could all appear and throw a wrench into things, and that’s not even _considering_ the possibility of true immortals like demons or angels… or nephilim.

He begins to run, shouldering his way through people, ignoring the complaints he gets, desperate to get out. He never should have come out, never should have let Sanghyuk bring him here. He bursts out of the front door and starts heading around the block, to where he knows an alley is around the back (he knows because he’s sucked off many a stranger around there, but that’s neither here nor there at the moment). All he can think of is Sanghyuk, no, of the nephilim, of Jaehwan, of his tattoos and his hands and his lips –

Rounding the corner, he spots them instantly, like he knew he would. Some deep-seated instinct had called him here, low in his belly, and when he spots Jaehwan it’s like he’s seeing colours he didn’t even know existed. The nephilim is shirtless, and his wings are out – huge black things that make Hakyeon’s heart stop in his chest at their wrongness. He’s got Sanghyuk pinned against the wall, a hand wrapped loosely around his throat, a thigh between his legs, and Hakyeon sees red.

He explodes into the first animal that comes to mind, which happens to be a wolf, probably because he’d skimmed over werewolves earlier. As with any huge change, it’s excruciating, but the alcohol still thrumming in his veins burns away some of the pain and he leaps forward with a snarl, his teeth bared, aiming for Jaehwan’s throat. Without even looking up from where he’s whispering into Sanghyuk’s ear – _mine_ , Hakyeon thinks with an odd wolfish possessiveness, although he’s not sure which of the two he’s thinking about – Jaehwan bats him out of the air like he’s swatting a fly. Hakyeon lands on his side, and the pain is so acute that he’s jolted out of the wolf form, his head spinning. The more he shifts the more energy he’s going to use, but it’s the only weapon he’s got right now so, looking up at Jaehwan, he shifts into a copy of him, just like he’d done to Sanghyuk all those years ago.

“Little incubus,” Jaehwan says, as he turns around, and he sounds friendly. “I thought you’d come.”

He doesn’t look the least bit perturbed that he’s essentially facing himself – a pissed off version of himself, wings trembling. “Get the fuck away from him,” Hakyeon growls, clenching his fists.

Obediently, Jaehwan steps away from Sanghyuk, putting some distance between them. He shrugs, and his wings rustle, and Hakyeon’s stomach churns. Even demons don’t have wings like that. They’re just another reminder of how wrong nephilim are. “I wasn’t trying to hurt him. He’s fine.”

“I’m fine,” Sanghyuk pipes up, skirting around Jaehwan warily and coming to a stop in front of Hakyeon. “Seriously, hyung, I’m fine. Not hurt or anything. Your nephilim isn’t so bad.”

Hakyeon smacks him on the arm reflexively. It’s just something he does when Sanghyuk says something particularly irritating. But this time he’s imbued with some of Jaehwan’s physical strength, rather than his own lithe body, and Sanghyuk winces. “You’re just saying that because he was about to stick his hands down your pants. Did you ask him if he prefers cash or credit?”

He isn’t about to let the “your nephilim” comment slide, but that’s a discussion for another time and place, not when he’s worried they’re both about to get disemboweled. Sanghyuk narrows his eyes and reaches out to touch Hakyeon’s feathers, slowly, like he’s not sure they’re real. “Fuck off, hyung,” he murmurs under his breath, but Hakyeon knows he isn’t serious. “He wasn’t trying to hurt me. He was asking me about _you_. Give him a chance.”

Before Hakyeon can even react to the idiocy of that comment (there’s a reason that nephilim are hunted, they’re fucking _dangerous)_ , Sanghyuk smiles at him and presses a brief kiss to his lips. It’s too fast for even the slightest hint of energy transfer, and it’s not possessive or mad – just a kiss that says _you’ll be okay_. And then he turns and walks away from the both of them, waving over his shoulder like he’s walking away from brunch, not a nephilim and an incubus about to kill each other.

Jaehwan watches him go, before snapping his eyes back to Hakyeon and looking him up and down appreciatively. “You wear me well.”

Not quite wanting to let his guard down yet, Hakyeon doesn’t say anything, just takes a minute step back. Now that he’s settled, sort of, he can appraise just how much the last two shifts ate through the energy reserves he’d built up: he’s not quite running on empty, but he’s far from full. _Damn_ it. All that hard work for nothing; now he’s going to have to go back inside and hunt some more, which is the last thing he feels like doing right now. “Leave me alone,” Hakyeon sighs, wearily, “please. I’m not looking for trouble. I just want to keep living my life the way I always have. With _out_ true immortals bothering me.”

“I’m not looking for trouble, either,” Jaehwan replies smoothly, taking a step closer, and then another. “Seriously. I’m not trying to kill you, or hurt you, or anything like that. I’m just curious.”

“Curious about what?” Hakyeon finds himself asking, although he doesn’t really know if he wants the answer. He tucks his wings neatly behind his back, finding that they’re annoying him. When he looks down at his hands he can see the tell-tale tattoos adorning him there, branding him, and it turns his stomach.

Jaehwan shrugs, and takes another step closer. They’re close enough to touch, now, although he doesn’t make a move to. “About you. You’re very attractive.”

It’s the first normal thing that Jaehwan’s said, not shrouded in mystery or true immortal bullshit, and Hakyeon stares at Jaehwan for a second before doubling over with laughter. He’s _attractive_. Right. Of course he is. “Of course I am. It’s my job. I have to be.”

“No,” Jaehwan says, softly, and when he reaches out to touch Hakyeon on the arm, Hakyeon feels himself shift back to his own form involuntarily, the image that he’s wearing melting away. It’s a disgusting feeling, but he’s more awed by the power Jaehwan has, that he can _do_ that to him. “No, I mean this. _You_ are attractive. This is your true form.”

Hakyeon almost wants to say _yeah, and?_ But he’s so distracted by Jaehwan’s hand on his arm that he can’t really focus. The hunger that’d been burning at the back of his mind since he’d first shifted into the wolf snaps into reality, somehow recognising Jaehwan as prey even though he’s anything but. “Um,” he stammers, trying to hold it together. He’s better than this, he’s better than falling apart like an idiot at one simple touch. “Thanks?”

He wants to ask so many things (how did you do that? Why are you here? Are you being hunted right now? Why can’t I feel you? Are you going to kill me? Are you the one who has been killing all those immortals? Why the hell do I want to fuck you?) but doesn’t have the words, not when Jaehwan’s touch is so hot and searing on his skin. “I need to go,” he blurts instead, feeling a blush rise on his cheeks – one he quickly shapeshifts away. “I still have to feed. You – all that shapeshifting wore me out.”

Jaehwan cocks his head to the side, as if being worn out never happens to him. It probably never does, in all honesty; true immortals don’t have to feed off others to use their powers. They just _do_ , no strings attached, and Hakyeon envies that somehow. “Let me,” Jaehwan says, his voice low, and Hakyeon’s eyes widen.

Gently, Jaehwan cups Hakyeon’s face, his thumb stroking along the line of one of Hakyeon’s cheekbones. It’s intimate in a way it shouldn’t be, but perhaps that’s just par for the course for Jaehwan. Not bothering to wait – he’s hungry, both for the promise of energy and for the taste of Jaehwan’s lips again, even though he really _really_ shouldn’t be this eager – Hakyeon presses into the nephilim, grabbing his hips and pulling him close to get up on his toes and kiss him.

This is a different kiss to the first one. There’s an element of hunger there that wasn’t there before, and he can’t tell if it’s on his part or on Jaehwan’s. Whatever it is, Jaehwan’s walking him backwards so he’s pinned against the wall, and Hakyeon responds by sliding a hand up his back to tug at his feathers. Even though there’s no energy taken, he feels himself getting turned on, just like before. There’s just something about Jaehwan that takes his breath away, has him wanting more, and all his doubts melt away in the heat between them. He’s just about to slip his hand down to cup Jaehwan’s ass when something changes and energy begins flowing into him.

Fuck. _Fuck_. This – this is nothing he’s ever felt before. Incubi and succubi can give each other energy if they need to, but it’s seen as so taboo that it’s only really used for emergencies. Hakyeon has only been on the receiving end of that kind of transfer once, and this absolutely blows it out of the fucking water. The energy that Jaehwan’s giving him, _pouring_ into him, is almost too much for him, and he feels his fingers digging into Jaehwan’s back involuntarily. It feels like he’s swallowing the universe, stars and galaxies and all, the sun bursting out of every pore and shining over them both. He feels like a fucking god, and when Jaehwan takes a step back to break the connection, Hakyeon just regards him, his hands shaking. It should feel dirty, it should feel taboo, but it doesn’t – it just feels so goddamn right that he can barely comprehend it.

Jaehwan looks triumphant, even though he’s just given Hakyeon some of his life force. _Is this what it feels like to be you?_ Hakyeon wonders, casting his eyes over Jaehwan’s chest, his wings, the tattoos snaking their way along his collarbones, around his wrists. _Is this how you feel every day?_

_I want to feel that too._

He barrels into Jaehwan, but this time there’s no malice in it, only pure, unadulterated lust. The kiss, and the piece of Jaehwan’s soul, is flowing through him and all his fears are abated in the wake of it. Sliding one hand into Jaehwan’s hair, the other curling in the front of his pants, he kisses Jaehwan like he’s going to die if he doesn’t, because it honestly sort of feels that way. Jaehwan kisses him back with equally as much passion, shoving Hakyeon back against the wall and wedging a thigh between his legs. Hakyeon grinds himself against Jaehwan’s hip shamelessly, not giving a shit that he’s hard already and that they’re in some dingy alleyway; all he cares about is Jaehwan’s hands on his, about undoing the button on Jaehwan’s jeans slowly, even though it kills him to do anything slowly right now.

“Hakyeon…” Jaehwan rumbles, his kisses trailing a path down the skin of Hakyeon’s neck to nip at his collarbone. “Get rid of this,” he says, tugging at the fabric of Hakyeon’s shirt.

Hakyeon obeys, shifting away the shirt without a second thought; he’s so filled on Jaehwan’s energy that he feels like he could shift into anything and everything all at once. Instead he yanks at the button on Jaehwan’s pants, hears it pop off and skitter across the ground, and, without hesitating, slides his hand down into Jaehwan’s underwear to palm at his cock. The moment he curls his hand around its length Jaehwan’s breath stutters, and he yanks Hakyeon’s head around to kiss him again.

It’s fucking annoying, trying to jerk Jaehwan off with his pants and underwear in the way, and Hakyeon’s wrist starts to hurt after a few seconds. But he perseveres, because he’s never quite done anything like this, never had a true immortal quite literally fall apart in his arms – hell, he’s never jerked off anyone this hot, either. And it’s entirely worth it to see Jaehwan staring at him like he’s never seen anything like Hakyeon before, which is laughable – Hakyeon’s just a regular incubus. Jaehwan is in another league entirely.

“Jaehwan,” he breathes, shifting to touch Jaehwan’s wings again. “Come on…”

He knows it’s dangerous, to use his power like this, because Jaehwan’s infinitely more powerful than him. But he’s already on the brink of danger anyway, with this frenzied hurried thing, hot and panting in the cool air, and he’s got nothing left to lose – and he kind of wants to see Jaehwan come completely undone. It’s hard to focus on keeping his rhythm, though, because Jaehwan’s hand trails down his side to grip his waist and it’s such a strong grip that Hakyeon swallows. He’s walking a fine line, here; push Jaehwan too far and the wrong thing might set him off, but push him just the right amount and he’ll snap in exactly the way Hakyeon wants him to.

Jaehwan looks down at him, and although he’s got lust telegraphed over his features (Hakyeon’s seen enough of it over the centuries to know what it looks like on anyone) his eyes are sharp, clear, glittering with amusement. “Hold on,” he says, and Hakyeon opens his mouth to ask _to what? your cock?_ when the air shifts and shimmers around them, disappearing and reappearing again.

Hakyeon stumbles backwards, the brick wall holding him no longer there. He’s in an apartment, that much is clear, and he realises Jaehwan fucking _teleported_ them here. “What the fuck,” he says, deadpan, pulling his hand away from Jaehwan’s dick and putting his hands on his hips. “Take me back. I don’t even know where the fuck we are.”

Jaehwan shrugs (his wings shrug with him when he does, Hakyeon notes), but he’s still smiling a cheeky smile that makes Hakyeon want to slap him or kiss him, he can’t quite tell which. “We’re still in Seoul. This is my home.”

That’s a lie. That’s the biggest lie Hakyeon’s heard in his life, and he snorts, rolling his eyes theatrically. He has no doubt that this is _one_ of Jaehwan’s residences, but if he _actually_ lives here he’ll wake up tomorrow morning a human, and they both know that’s not going to happen. It’s too clean, too spotless, too clinical and cold. Of course, it makes sense that Jaehwan’s brought him here; he has no idea if Hakyeon is going to turn tail and run to the angels when they’re done. So Hakyeon admires his intelligence but hates the lie, and takes another step backwards. “I should probably go.”

Jaehwan looks puzzled at that, like he can’t comprehend _why_ Hakyeon wants to leave. And perhaps that’s a fair assumption – he’s so beautiful and so powerful that he can probably have anyone he wants. All he has to do is crook his finger and people would come running, mostly out of their own volition. But Hakyeon isn’t interested in power or being Jaehwan’s lap dog, so he folds his arms over his chest and takes another step backwards.

“You’re so damn hot and cold,” Jaehwan complains, and he sounds so _human_ that Hakyeon cracks a smile. “Stay or leave, I don’t care. Make up your mind.”

Hakyeon bristles at that, which was probably Jaehwan’s goal, but he’s too busy rushing ahead to prove him wrong to bother examining Jaehwan’s reverse psychology. “You don’t _care?_ You certainly seemed to care when we were back in that alleyway,” he purrs, turning the salaciousness up to eleven. “Don’t lie to me.”

Stepping closer, he circles his arms around Jaehwan’s waist, stroking the feathers closest to him. Jaehwan, for his part, looks amused but intrigued, which is exactly what he is going for. “I can read minds, you know,” Hakyeon breathes jokingly, only half putting it on. This close, the physical proximity to Jaehwan is unnerving, the heat of his body impossible to ignore.

Without hesitating, he pushes in and kisses Jaehwan again, keeping his eyes open. He’s walking that line again, the fine line of danger, but it’s thrilling, especially when he’s trying to glamour a true immortal – possibly the stupidest thing he’s ever done. His glamour is weak, anyway (all immortals have it, to some extent; a vampires’ glamour is the strongest by far, but incubi and succubi can’t do much more than shape minds gently, push someone in a direction. It’s up for them to take the next step), and it’s not even going to _work_ , but who knows. He wants more of Jaehwan’s power, wants to feel like a god again.

Jaehwan smirks and picks Hakyeon up as easily if he was a child, which both annoys him and turns him on at the same time. He usually _hates_ being manhandled, and has half a mind to shift into something annoying like a mosquito just to irritate him, but Jaehwan’s hands are so strong on Hakyeon’s waist that he melts, lets himself be carried over towards the bed. _Bed._ Fuck. Jaehwan falls towards the bed, his huge wings spreading out to slow his fall, and Hakyeon blanches.

“You don’t like them, do you?” Jaehwan asks, letting go of Hakyeon to splay his arms on either side of his shoulders.

Hakyeon shakes his head and wrinkles his nose. Jaehwan’s wrongness is easy to ignore when they’re hidden because he looks mostly human. _Mostly_. He’s too gorgeous to be anything but immortal, and his tattoos are a huge giveaway, but at least Hakyeon can pretend that he’s not about to get fucked by something, someone, that shouldn’t even exist. Before he can even say why, though, Jaehwan shifts away his wings in the blink of an eye.

“You don’t have to do that f–” Hakyeon begins, although he appreciates the gesture, before Jaehwan cuts him off with a kiss.

It’s hot and demanding and a wordless command to stop talking and touch him, so Hakyeon does, running his hand over Jaehwan’s back, now unencumbered by wings. The lust returns with a vengeance, hitting him like a punch in the gut, and with it the hunger. He shouldn’t be this hungry again, so soon after receiving such a huge hit from Jaehwan, but it’s less a true need and a craving for more. _Fuck_. One hit already and he’s an addict.

Not that it’s hard not to be, when Jaehwan’s touching him everywhere he can – running his hand through Hakyeon’s hair, tracing a path around his nipple, skipping over his ribs. In a matter of moments he’s writhing underneath Jaehwan, pushing their hips together, wanting proper touches, not this teasing, light stuff that makes his head spin. The newness of it all, combined with his hunger that’s coursing through him, soon has him tugging at Jaehwan’s pants desperately. “Come on, come _on_ , shift these away, I know you can.”

“You first,” Jaehwan replies in his ear, and Hakyeon can hear the smile in his voice.

Hakyeon sighs. They’re both stubborn as hell, he’s figured out that much, and this could quickly become an impasse if he doesn’t comply. Besides, he doesn’t mind being looked at, not when the one doing the looking is as hot as Jaehwan is. So with another eye roll he shifts away the rest of his clothes, so he’s lying there stark naked, trying not to feel self-conscious.

Jaehwan rocks back on his heels, his eyes trailing over Hakyeon’s body, and Hakyeon immediately changes his mind. Alright, so he does mind being looked at. He does mind being looked at like _that_ , like Jaehwan’s gaze is searing through him, a thousand times more intimate than Hakyeon had expected. As Hakyeon watches Jaehwan drinking him in, he sees the nephilim’s eyes grow dark and feels a crackle of power erupt from him. It’s not aimed at Hakyeon, not aimed at _anyone_ , just Jaehwan letting down some of his shields. Hakyeon gulps. Just that little flash of power alone, fueled by nothing but lust, is more powerful than anything Hakyeon’s ever felt before. He’s sure demons and angels are more powerful, of course, but he tends to stay away from them as a rule – they’re _trouble_. And here Hakyeon is, naked and trembling underneath trouble himself.

Fuck.

“Your turn,” he tells Jaehwan, admiring the fact that his voice is stoic, steady, even if his hand is fluttering in the sheets. He’s achingly hard, and wants to touch himself, but doesn’t know if he’d be _able_ to under the weight of that stare.

Obediently, Jaehwan’s pants disappear so he’s naked as well, and Hakyeon struggles up onto an elbow to give Jaehwan the once-over, although he supposes his gaze will be a lot less searing. Jaehwan’s built surprisingly solid, although Hakyeon sort of knew that already from seeing him shirtless in the alley. He doesn’t exude physical strength overtly, but it’s most certainly there, and Hakyeon has no doubt Jaehwan would be able to throw him around if the ease with which he picked Hakyeon up was any indication. The tattoos on his collarbones and hands are matched by an elaborate set looping underneath his nipples on his ribs, which Hakyeon had noticed earlier, but he has more on his upper thighs and on his feet. They’re all the same general design, and when Hakyeon reaches out to touch the nearest one on Jaehwan’s thigh he feels the power etched into them, and shudders, a movement echoed by Jaehwan. Huh. Something to keep in mind.

“Can you get rid of these?” he asks. It’s not that he wants Jaehwan to, really – they are shockingly beautiful, and seek to make him even more ethereal – but he’s curious. There’s so many legends and myths surrounding nephilim it’s hard to sift through them and get to the truth. What’s that mortal saying? Curiosity killed the cat?

Jaehwan shakes his head. “No. They stay with me. No matter what I shift into.”

That makes Hakyeon pause. “Even if you shifted into, like, a lion? Wow, a lion with tats. That’d be cool to see.”

Quirking an eyebrow, Jaehwan lies back down on top of Hakyeon, making him gasp – there’s so much _skin_ , and Jaehwan is so warm, so so warm, that he cuts straight through to Hakyeon’s core. “Shut up,” he tells Hakyeon, not unkindly, before kissing him again.

 _Wrong, wrong._ It’s so hard to rationalise this, when his brain and common sense are screaming at him to get away, to get _far_ away, possibly to Antarctica, but when his body is screaming out for more. There’s just something in the way they fit together that feels right, like the melding of two souls, but Hakyeon shoves that thought away as soon as it appears. This is nothing but lust, nothing but a fuck and possibly another hit of energy if he plays his cards right. No point making it into something it’s not.

They kiss, languidly and slowly, everything about Jaehwan telegraphing patience. He’s touching Hakyeon like he has an eternity, and while they both do Hakyeon doesn’t want to wait – he’s never been very patient, and that’s a trait that had carried over into immortality. So he wriggles a little underneath Jaehwan, wondering what on earth he’ll have to do to get Jaehwan to crack and show Hakyeon the side to him that’s not all sweetness and light and teasing kisses that just frustrate him. Perhaps it’s a bad idea to want to bait the _true immortal_ into snapping, but Hakyeon wants to see how far he can take this.

So he shifts his hips upward, craving the friction against his cock, and pulls back a little to look up at Jaehwan, making sure he looks slightly desperate. It’s not hard, because he _is_ , but he’s a good actor and can play it up some. “Jaehwan,” he breathes, and wonders belatedly if he should add a _hyung_. He doesn’t know when Jaehwan was born, but he’s sure he’s older – there’s something about him that exudes the wiseness of years beyond Hakyeon’s own. “Hurry _up_ and fuck me.”

To his surprise, Jaehwan’s pupils dilate at his words, so Hakyeon takes the opportunity to push him gently over, sitting up so his thighs are bracketing Jaehwan’s hips. From here, it’s easy to trail a hand down his chest and belly to wrap around his cock, and when he makes a little noise Hakyeon hums, pleased. _Wrong_ , the voice whispers again, but he bats it away – how can it be so wrong when Jaehwan looks so damn pretty, and when Hakyeon wants him so fiercely?

Taking his cue from Jaehwan’s reaction when he’d touched his tattoos earlier, he reaches out with his other hand and skims the tip of his finger along the leaves on Jaehwan’s ribs. Just like before, he feels the power humming in the ink, some kind of ancient magic that he’s not privy to – even though he is an immortal he was born a human and as such there will always be doors that are closed to him. Jaehwan gasps, and then presses his lips shut like he can’t believe he did it, but Hakyeon smiles and leans down to press gentle, biting kisses up Jaehwan’s neck to his ear.

“What does this feel like?” he breathes, and digs his nails in to Jaehwan’s tattoo.

There’s a moment, just a millisecond of peace, where Jaehwan doesn’t do anything except go completely, inhumanly still. Before Hakyeon can even ask what’s wrong, he explodes into action, grabbing Hakyeon by the throat and pinning him down on the bed so fast that Hakyeon can’t even comprehend what’s happening – there’s too many things to focus on, all at once. Jaehwan kisses him, fierce and deep and haggard, his fingers still wrapped loosely around Hakyeon’s throat, and Hakyeon feels himself melt.

“Don’t you dare,” he growls into Hakyeon’s mouth, his eyes dark and glittering with something dangerous, his other hand trailing down Hakyeon’s chest. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

Hakyeon just smirks, because he’d felt the flare of power that Jaehwan had let off when he’d dug his nails in – and he’d been able to feel the lust it was fueled by, purer and brighter than Hakyeon had ever seen before. He wants to _taste_ that, wants more of Jaehwan, wants to make him snap. It’s pretty clear he’s close to that already. So without an ounce of fear, and with a whole lot of salaciousness, he just quirks an eyebrow and drags his nails down Jaehwan’s collarbones, over his tattoos.

The reaction is instantaneous. Jaehwan moans, and he sounds so fucking wrecked that it takes Hakyeon’s breath away. The hand around his throat moves up, Jaehwan slipping two fingers inside Hakyeon’s mouth, almost like he can’t help himself. Hakyeon sucks on them gently, a little awed, now, by the power that’s steadily radiating from Jaehwan; it’s power that he’s only barely able to grasp, but what he _can_ understand has his head spinning. Every assumption that he’d had about Jaehwan, every thought on how powerful he was, is gone. He’s never felt anything like it.

“Stop pushing me,” Jaehwan mutters, but he sounds a lot less composed than he did before.

He pulls his fingers away, and Hakyeon pulls a face. “But it’s so _fun_. I want to see you – ah!”

He’s cut off by Jaehwan sliding a finger into him with no warning whatsoever, and he arches up into him, his lips parted. Jaehwan doesn’t give him much time to adjust before he starts fingering him, heinously slowly at first but picking up the pace when Hakyeon relaxes around him. There’s a sort of frenzied hurriedness in the jerky way he moves, in the way he kisses Hakyeon – it’s almost like he’s _drunk_. Hakyeon gets that, he kinda does, but he just wants more – more of Jaehwan, more of this, more of the both of them, together. Moving his hips into Jaehwan’s hand, he whines a little, and is rewarded with another finger.

“That’s not what I want,” he mutters, but Jaehwan grins at him – although it looks maniacal when he’s this turned on – and he rolls his eyes. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” Jaehwan asks, too innocently, crooking his fingers upwards, hitting _that_ spot.

Hakyeon moans, all words flying out of his head, his hands scrabbling on Jaehwan’s back. “Fuck, _that_ , don’t do that, Jesus, just _fuck_ me already, don’t tease,” he babbles, the pleasure swirling around his head, making him incomprehensible.

He knows his eyes are glowing yellow as Jaehwan obeys, sliding his fingers out from Hakyeon to reach for the lube conveniently placed on the bedside table (which makes Hakyeon wonder if this is just his own personal sex apartment – he’d be weirded out if he didn’t think it was such a good idea). It’s just a thing that happens when he’s having sex – one of those incubus things. Normally he’d shift it away, but Jaehwan isn’t human and he has nothing to hide. Not that there’s much to hide when he’s spreadeagled naked on a bed, really. “Jaehwan,” he begins, struggling up on his elbows. “Don’t you think – _uh_ ,” he says, unable to finish because Jaehwan’s fingering him again, his fingers slick, and then pulling away to align his cock to Hakyeon’s entrance.

There’s no words between them as Jaehwan presses into Hakyeon in one smooth, slow thrust – none are really needed. Hakyeon can read everything on Jaehwan’s face, lust and desire and a hunger for something, hunger that apparently he can provide. Jaehwan’s power is enveloping him, surrounding him, so much so that the dual sensations of both Jaehwan’s cock and Jaehwan’s power _everywhere_ has him closing his eyes, completely overwhelmed.

“You look good like this,” Jaehwan mutters, rolling his hips into Hakyeon slowly, and if Hakyeon’s not going mad (which is a legitimate possibility, because he certainly feels it), there’s a note of possessiveness in his voice, which thrills him.

Trying to keep his voice steady, which is hopeless because Jaehwan feels so fucking _good_ , christ, he looks up at Jaehwan and tries for innocent. “Like what?”

“Being fucked,” Jaehwan says. “Wanting more.”

He _does_ want more; this slow pace is torturous. He wants Jaehwan to lose control again, to fuck him _properly_ – perhaps it’s Jaehwan’s power calling to him, astonishing him completely, but at this point he doesn’t care _what_ is is. “Am I? How can you tell?”

Without saying a word, Jaehwan kisses him, but Hakyeon feels that odd tugging in his chest again, the one he’s sure his victims feel. Jaehwan’s eyes glow a fierce yellow, to match his own, and he shivers; it looks _good_ on him. “Because I can taste it,” Jaehwan replies, nonplussed.

 _Maybe I really do have a death wish,_ Hakyeon thinks, sliding his hands down to cover Jaehwan’s tattoos. _Maybe that’s why I think I’m going crazy._ He shifts his nails to be longer, sharper, and digs them in, hard enough to draw blood, crimson pricking up from underneath his fingers.

Jaehwan makes a choked noise, and a wash of power erupts from him, so explosive that Hakyeon is pinned to the bed, unable to move. It’s fury and lust and it’s terrifying as much as it is awe-inspiring, and Hakyeon lets it wash over him as Jaehwan’s wings erupt from his back with a sound of flapping and he slides his hand into Hakyeon’s hair to yank at his head, a punishment. “I’m going to fucking kill you,” he snarls, and for the first time, Hakyeon can actually believe it.

“Fuck me properly first,” he replies evenly.

Jaehwan groans, running his hands down the length of Hakyeon’s body, wrapping his legs tighter around his waist. His wings are so big that they’re brushing the top of Hakyeon’s shins and he tries not to shiver, squeezing his eyes shut as Jaehwan sets up a frantic, hurried pace, his hips snapping deep, sharp thrusts. It’s too much, it’s too much, and he grabs onto one of Jaehwan’s wings and just holds on as Jaehwan fucks him brutally into the mattress, finally giving him the pleasure he’s been gagging for since they’d first kissed.

“Jaehwan,” he moans, drawing out the syllables, tasting them properly on his tongue. “You feel so fucking good, don’t stop, _please.”_

Jaehwan doesn’t stop – if anything, he moves faster, harder, like he’s unable to help himself. There’s something so fucking satisfying about watching Jaehwan come apart quite literally, lose himself, and when he next looks up at Hakyeon his eyes are entirely black, the last remaining facades of his human shape fading away with his lust. He looks terrifying, but Hakyeon is altogether too turned on to give a shit; the way Jaehwan is fucking him feels too damn good for him to care about anything except the feeling of their bodies moving together and how right it feels, more right than anything he’s ever experienced before.

“Touch me,” he begs, not even caring that he sounds desperate and whiny.

Jaehwan smirks, even if the effect is muted a little by how inhuman he looks, and for a moment Hakyeon thinks he’s not going to do it, that he’s just going to let him suffer. But then he reaches down between them, his hand closing on Hakyeon’s cock, and he inhales sharply. It’s not going to take much for him to come – he can feel it building, low in his belly, heat pooling in his thighs – especially when Jaehwan’s thrusts are everything he _needs_ , when he’s jerking Hakyeon off in time with his hips, when his power is surrounding Hakyeon, filling him up. He has to close his eyes, because the way Jaehwan is looking at him is just too much.

 _“God_ , Jaehwan, _fuck_ ,” he says, and he loves the way Jaehwan’s hand tightens on his cock when he says his name, like Hakyeon does to Jaehwan what Jaehwan does to him. The thought of that, of having so much power over someone so powerful himself, makes him bite his lip hard to stop himself from moaning helplessly.

“Look at me,” Jaehwan commands, and when Hakyeon doesn’t because he doesn’t know if he _can_ , leans down to kiss Hakyeon roughly, all lips and tongue and teeth that just mesh with all the feelings of everything else and has his eyes snapping open. “Come for me, Hakyeon.”

Hakyeon digs his nails into Jaehwan’s shoulders and clenches his legs tighter around Jaehwan’s waist, Jaehwan’s words the catalyst he needed. His orgasm rips through him, violently, making him buck on the bed underneath Jaehwan, his eyes rolling back in his head. Jaehwan doesn’t let up with his thrusts, drawing it out for Hakyeon, his lips falling to Hakyeon’s neck to bite him so hard Hakyeon’s sure he’s bleeding. And then, right as he’s about to beg Jaehwan to stop because he’s so fucking sensitive, he feels it.

“Don’t,” he gasps, because he thinks he’s gonna fucking _die_ if Jaehwan does this, but Jaehwan just chuckles hoarsely.

Jaehwan’s giving him energy again. It’s just a trickle compared to what he’d given Hakyeon before, in the alley, but it’s enough to have him writhing around underneath Jaehwan, clenching around him, unable to control himself. He’s so fucking sensitive, and Jaehwan’s thrusts are getting more staccato, more unravelled, and Hakyeon can tell he’s close – that’s about the only thing he _can_ tell, through the haze of his orgasm and the energy he’s getting. “Jaehwanie,” he manages to choke out, although he feels like he’s going to black out from the overstimulation, “Jaehwan, _please.”_

Jaehwan comes, and when he does he drops all his shields, every single one of them. Hakyeon would scream if he could, but he can’t make any sound because the power has sucked all the oxygen from him. Perhaps the worst part of it is it’s not torturous at all, although perhaps it should be; instead, as Jaehwan’s wings spread and he throws his head back, Hakyeon feels the most pleasure he’s ever felt in his life. He feels like a God, no, _beyond_ a God, he feels like he’s got the universe in his hands. _How do you live with this?_ he manages to think, and then, _why are you giving it to me?_

Jaehwan collapses on top of him, the both of them breathing hard. His shields are back up, his power gone, and Hakyeon feels naked without it. For a moment all he can do is lie there and stare at the ceiling, trying to get his breathing back to normal, watching the frantic rise and fall of Jaehwan’s back. When he assesses, he feels that he’s practically brimming with energy; the last time he was this full is the night he was made, and that was hundreds of years ago. He still can’t quite wrap his head around why, exactly, Jaehwan’s giving part of his life force away – it doesn’t affect him at all, but it’s still taboo, dirty. Energy transfers between various false immortals are bad enough, but between a true immortal and a false one? Basically unheard of.

And yet here they are.

“Get off,” he says, pushing at Jaehwan’s shoulder. He doesn’t put up any resistance, and rolls over easily, his wings vanishing into nothing – and when he looks at Hakyeon, he can see that his eyes are back to their normal brown.

Jaehwan sits up, but he’s moving sluggishly, slowly, almost like how Hakyeon’s victims do. Perhaps giving Hakyeon some of his energy had a toll on him, after all, but Hakyeon has no intention of hanging around to find out why; he’s got what he came for. The fact that Jaehwan is willing to give himself away so easily just cements everything Hakyeon suspects about him: he’s trouble, bad news, and Hakyeon needs to get away as soon as possible. It’s kind of hard to, though, because when he looks at Jaehwan – noting the dried blood over his tattoos, the way his hair is mussed and how his lips are kiss-swollen – he finds his lust starting to awaken again, somewhat incredibly.

“Where are you going?” he asks sleepily, blinking languidly, watching Hakyeon as he shifts on clothes, fixes his hair, shifts away the blush on his cheeks.

“Home,” Hakyeon mutters tersely, not looking at Jaehwan. “Don’t follow me.”

Jaehwan kneels on the bed, puts two fingers underneath Hakyeon’s chin and tilts his head up, so Hakyeon has no choice but to meet his eyes. “Little incubus, are you running away?”

The moment Jaehwan touches him his body reacts, wanting to reach out and run his fingers through Jaehwan’s hair, brush it away from his forehead, touch his face. Which isn’t good. It’s the opposite of good, actually, and could even be considered _very fucking bad_. So he bares his teeth, hoping that Jaehwan’s not so powerful as to be able to read minds, and jerks his head backwards. “I’m not _little_. Stop calling me that. And for your information, I have somewhere to be. It was nice… doing this.”

Raising an eyebrow, Jaehwan flops back onto the bed and yawns, like the conversation is boring him. “Alright. See you around, then.”

 _You won’t,_ Hakyeon thinks grimly as he lets himself out.

//

Hakyeon knocks at the door of the apartment tiredly, sagging a little on his feet. It’s not like he’s wanting for energy, but this is more of a physical tiredness – the sort of full, sleepy feeling of being fucked-out and satiated. He hadn’t even wanted to come here, not _really_ – what he really wants to do is go home and sleep for a fucking week and forget that he’s ever met a Jaehwan – but he needs answers and this is the only place he knows how to get them.

“Who is it?” a voice says from behind the door, and Hakyeon rolls his eyes.

“It’s the police, open up,” he replies sarcastically. He’s perfectly aware that Wonshik can feel him standing there as much as he can feel Wonshik, perhaps even moreso because Wonshik’s older than him.

The door swings open, and Wonshik grins easily at Hakyeon. He’s in his own home, so he hasn’t bothered to retract his fangs or change his eyes from their startling bright crimson, so he looks as vampiric as possible. He looks genuinely happy to see Hakyeon, too, which is a nice change. Normally he’s dragged over here under the pretense of getting drunk only for Wonshik to go off on some spiel about vampire politics (which he couldn’t care less about). Hakyeon opens his mouth to say something but Wonshik’s expression abruptly changes, and his fangs run out a little bit more. “What the fuck have you fed on?” he asks, somewhat bewilderedly.

Before Hakyeon can protest, Wonshik’s hand shoots out to grab him by the wrist and drag him into the apartment. Then he’s whirled and pushed up against the wall, Wonshik’s hand wrapped around his throat. He knows what’s coming and squirms, but it’s no use, not really. Wonshik’s nearly two hundred years older than him, and he’s imbued with vampiric strength that Hakyeon can’t match unless he shifts (incubi and succubi aren’t granted huge amounts of strength like vampires are; they just don’t need it because their talents lie elsewhere) and he doesn’t want to waste the energy he’s filled up with. So his weak pushes at Wonshik do nothing as the vampire leans in and sinks his fangs into Hakyeon’s neck.

As always, the vampire’s bite is pleasurable, and Hakyeon’s knees go weak involuntarily. Wonshik manages to catch him with his other hand, and he only takes one swallow before pulling back, his eyes as wide as saucers, Hakyeon’s blood dripping down his chin. He doesn’t take any energy from it – that weird immortal taboo in action yet again – but he looks almost high, anyway. “Hongbin,” he calls over his shoulder, not taking his eyes off Hakyeon’s. “Come here.”

Obediently, Hongbin skips into view, brightening when he sees Hakyeon. “Oh, hello, hyung,” he says cheerfully, like seeing Hakyeon pinned to the wall with blood dripping down his neck is an every day occurrence – and with these two, it sort of is. “What’s up, Wonshik?”

“Taste this,” Wonshik says, nodding at Hakyeon’s neck.

Hakyeon makes a strangled noise and flails ineffectively. “I’m not a fucking buffet, guys, can we just stop with the bloodsucking for a mo – oh,” he moans, closing his eyes as Hongbin latches on.

Just like Wonshik he only takes a swallow before licking the wounds shut, a courtesy that Wonshik hadn’t granted him. When he looks at Hakyeon, though, his tongue coming out to lick the blood on his lips, he looks exactly the same as Wonshik does: shellshocked.

Hakyeon struggles out of Wonshik’s grip and stalks over to the lounge, flopping down on it and rubbing at his neck. He’ll probably have bruises tomorrow, and it’s not like it matters because he can just shift them away, but it’s the principle of the thing. “Why is it that everytime I come over here I get bitten?” he grumbles at them, watching as they sit cross legged on the floor in perfect unison. Their apartment is decorated quite prettily, furnished mainly in white; sometimes Hakyeon thinks they aren’t very good at fulfilling vampire stereotypes.

“Most of the time you volunteer,” Hongbin reminds him.

Which is true. When they all get drunk, they often end up playing a fucked up kind of game of _guess who_ – the two vamps will taste Hakyeon’s blood and see if they can guess characteristics of the person he last fed on. He doesn’t do the same for them, because that would involve some weird, kinky sex, and he loves Hongbin and Wonshik but not _that_ much. It barely toes the line of ‘okay’ and ‘dirty’, but considering the others don’t get energy from him they all figure it’s alright. “ _Not_ the point,” he sniffs, folding his arms. “Snap out of it, you’re freaking me out.”

“You wanna tell me why your blood tastes like true immortal?” Wonshik snaps back, leaning forward.

Hakyeon shrugs, trying to play it off as nonchalance. “Met one, had sex, he gave me some energy. No big deal.”

Wonshik’s eyes widen so far it looks like he’s about to give himself a hernia, and the ridiculous image is just bolstered by the way he splutters. “You had _sex?_ With a true immortal? Are you fucking nuts? And he gave you energy? What the fuck kind of weirdo demon is going around giving energy to false immortals like us? Was this a kinky sex thing?” He pauses for a moment, and then cocks his head to the side. “You must be _really_ good at sucking dick.”

“Not a demon,” Hongbin says quietly, looking at Hakyeon evenly.

Hakyeon could _kill_ him, has half a mind to leap across the coffee table and throttle him. Hongbin’s always been the more perceptive of the two, and if it wasn’t for him Hakyeon would have got away with letting Wonshik think he was fucking a demon. Wonshik pauses in the middle of building up for a huge rant, licking his lips once again, catching the last remnants of Hakyeon’s blood that lingers there, and he goes completely and utterly still.

“This tastes like…” he says, slowly, and Hakyeon settles back on the sofa. “This tastes like a nephilim,” he finishes quietly, looking at Hakyeon, pained. “Please tell me you didn’t.”

In lieu of an answer, Hakyeon shrugs his shoulders. “I’m going to come back here in the day and set this place on fire,” he tells them, perfectly seriously. “Hongbin goes up first.”

Wonshik just shakes his head, like Hakyeon is a conundrum that he doesn’t quite know what to do with. “You _did_. Oh my god. You actually – you actually fucked a nephilim. Do you want to die?” he demands, his mouth twisted into a snarl. “Do you have a literal death wish?”

“It wasn’t like that,” he offers, defending Jaehwan even though he knows he shouldn’t. That probably changed the moment he’d had his cock inside him. “He’s nice.”

“He’s _nice,_ ” Wonshik deadpans, looking at Hongbin helplessly. “He’s fucking nice. Is he being glamoured?”

Hongbin shakes his head, his lips quirked up into a smile. They make an interesting pair; Wonshik being the muscle, Hongbin being the brains, per se. He’s particularly intuitive and tuned into all things immortal, which comes in handy because Wonshik seems to rush into things head first without bothering to assess danger. Hakyeon sometimes wonders how Wonshik survived for so long without either of them – Wonshik’s older than him, probably around six hundred or so, but Hongbin’s only a century old.

“Not being glamoured, no. I think this is just another Hakyeon quirk,” he says, leaning back on his hands.

“A ‘Hakyeon quirk’ is fucking a human prostitute and getting attached to him,” Wonshik says, complete with air quotes. “A ‘Hakyeon quirk’ is that time he stumbled into a senior’s BDSM club. This is a bit beyond a ‘Hakyeon quirk.’”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Hakyeon says. “I’m fucking tired, and I wanna go home and sleep. I came here to ask you two for _help_ , not to get quizzed to the nth degree. What do you know about nephilim?”

Wonshik rolls his eyes, but most of the exasperation is gone and he relaxes visibly a bit. “Shouldn’t you have been asking this _before_ you let him fuck you? I don’t know much more than you, probably. True immortals, wrong in every sense of the word, branded with tattoos. Incredibly dangerous. Mr psychic might know more than I do.”

Hongbin shrugs. “Sorry. I’m not much use, either. I can taste he’s incredibly powerful, though. More than the three of us combined.”

“Well, _obviously,_ ” Wonshik reminds him. “One of his parents was an angel. You can’t get much more powerful than that.”

“... And he doesn’t mean Hakyeon any harm,” Hongbin continues, like Wonshik hadn’t said anything. “That’s it. Sorry.”

Hakyeon flops sideways so his head is pillowed on the armrest of the lounge and sighs dramatically. “Great. Powerful and doesn’t want to hurt me. I knew that already.”

There’s a moment of silence where Hongbin and Wonshik look at each other, and Hakyeon can tell they’re doing that weird thing where they’re talking without words. It’s Wonshik who cracks first, and when they look away Hongbin’s got a smile that he’s trying, and failing, to hide. “So was he good?”

“Seriously?” Hakyeon asks, pushing himself upright and trying his best to look stern. “You’re really asking? You wanna know all the juicy details? Fine. We started making out in an alleyway. I started jerking him off. He teleported us back to his place. We got naked, and then we started–”

Wonshik makes a garbled noise of protest, and Hongbin doubles over with laughter, unable to hold it in anymore. “Alright! I didn’t mean like that! Jesus, don’t be gross,” Wonshik blurts, waving his hands in the air like he can shut Hakyeon up that way. “Just answer the fucking question.”

“Yes, he was,” Hakyeon says simply, looking down at his hands.

It’s not as simple as that, though. Sure, Jaehwan was the best sex he’s ever had, and sure, he won’t have to feed for a month if he’s conservative with his shifting, thanks to the energy. And sure, he’s gorgeous and a great kisser and great in bed and knows all the right things to say to get Hakyeon riled up. That’s all fine. The thing that’s irreconcilable with Hakyeon is the fact that he’s a true immortal giving him energy, _and_ the fact that he’s a one of the most hunted species on the planet. It’s just safer if he stays away from that clusterfuck altogether, considering he actually _likes_ living.

Wonshik looks at him and sighs deeply, like Hakyeon is a wayward child of his that he can’t seem to control, which is ridiculous; Hongbin’s done some pretty heinous shit (admittedly nothing that compares to this, though). “Do you know what you’re getting yourself into?”

“I’m not getting myself into anything! It was a one time thing,” he replies, too quickly. Hongbin catches it, and raises his eyebrows at Hakyeon, but Wonshik just shrugs. “If you two aren’t going to help me, I’ll look for help somewhere else. With someone who knows how use Google,” he says, hauling himself off the sofa and stretching.

Hongbin snorts, but gets up to escort Hakyeon out; Wonshik raised him right, even if he is a lazy piece of shit himself. “That means you’re going to see Sanghyuk. When are you going to let us meet him?” he asks, innocently.

“When you promise not to bite him,” Hakyeon replies tiredly, opening the front door and looking back over his shoulder at Hongbin. “And I know you can’t promise that, since I get accosted every time I come here. We’ll have to start meeting in public if you guys don’t stop it.”

Hongbin pouts. “But you taste nice!”

“Goodbye, Hongbin,” Hakyeon laughs, pulling the door shut behind him and reaching in his pockets for his phone. He is going to see Sanghyuk, that’s for sure – the kid has freakish Google skills – but right now he just wants to go home and sleep; it’s already very close to dawn as it is.

Shooting off a text to Sanghyuk – _need ur help with smth. can I come over tomorrow?_ – he turns and heads for the lift, yawning hugely. Nothing in the world seems more appealing than his own bed right now, not even the thought of Jaehwan – which is just a testament to how tired he is.

//

“So you’re telling me that you fucked him? And got super high off his energy or whatever?” Sanghyuk says, leaning back into Hakyeon, waving his glass of wine perilously in the air. “Is that why I can barely keep my eyes off you?”

Hakyeon reaches for Sanghyuk’s glass and takes a sip before handing it back, scrunching up his face. For someone who is filthy rich, Sanghyuk tends to only buy disgustingly cheap wines that taste foul. “Yeah. I won’t have to feed for about a month. Maybe even longer, if I don’t shapeshift much.”

Sanghyuk looks up at Hakyeon, his head resting on his shoulder, and frowns. “Wait, you weren’t coming over here to get laid? You asshole. I prepped and everything. I thought that’s what you wanted my help with!”

“Believe it or not, you’re useful to me in other ways apart from sex,” Hakyeon tells him, carding his fingers through Sanghyuk’s hair listlessly. “I need to find out more about nephilim, and my other friends think Google is a sex move.”

“You have other friends?” Sanghyuk grumbles, but he pushes himself off Hakyeon anyway, reaching for his laptop on the floor, pulling it close and cracking it open.

Hakyeon pinches him in his side, making him yelp and squirm, some of the wine nearly spilling. Sanghyuk smacks Hakyeon on the shoulder gently, before turning back to the laptop and bringing up google to type in, carefully, ‘nephilim’. They both stare at the results that come back, and then look at each other slowly in an almost comedic fashion. Sanghyuk sighs, and drains the rest of his wine; Hakyeon thinks that’s quite a good idea, and reaches for the bottle to pour himself a glass. There’s so much to sift through, most of it crap, he doesn’t even really know where to begin. Thank god he’s got Sanghyuk.

They give up two hours later, both considerably more drunk than when they’d started. They’d finished the first bottle and moved onto the second, and then the third, and they’d only stopped because the words were getting too blurry to read. They hadn’t even learnt much, in the end – most of it was either too clinical, too cold, not what Hakyeon was looking for at all, not an answer to why Jaehwan did what he did; or too mythical, too extravagant.

“So what do we know?” Sanghyuk slurs, burying his face in the crook of Hakyeon’s neck, slipping his hand underneath Hakyeon’s shirt. “Nephilim are born, which makes them weird, because people like you are turned immortal and angels and stuff have been around since the beginning of the universe. One parent is an angel and the other is a human, but because angels can’t have sex when they actually have sex they fall and become a demon, right?”

“Right,” Hakyeon murmurs into Sanghyuk’s hair.

“Okay, cool. And they’re branded with tattoos as soon as they're born, with some old magic shit, which identifies them to other immortals. Except it doesn’t work like it should because nephilim were a shit ton more powerful than anyone thought, right? They evolved, which they shouldn’t have been able to do because immortals don’t evolve, that’s why they’re called _immortal_ , so people think it’s the human part of them,” Sanghyuk continues, speaking slowly. “And angels hunt them, because they’re nearly as powerful as angels but not quite. And the angels don’t like them for some reason.”

Hakyeon sighs and closes his eyes. “They think they’re an abomination, an atrocity in front of God. Like sin personified.”

“Yep, so they hunt them, so nephilim are always on the run. And they’re super dangerous, because they’re kinda crazy because they think everyone hates them. Which they kind of do. So they have this bad boy reputation, which is kinda hot, actually. Oh, yeah, and they have wings, which is apparently gross to you guys.”

 _“Because,”_ Hakyeon says pointedly, “only angels have wings. It just looks wrong if anyone else has them. Demons even lose them when they fall.”

It’s some weird immortal thing; some base reaction, deep in his soul, that he feels whenever he sees Jaehwan’s wings. Nobody is quite sure why nephilim are born with them, and no one is quite sure why the sight of them repels immortals so much. The most common theory is that it’s hardwired into them all to perceive angel wings as holy, since they reek of so much old magic, and to see them bastardized by the nephilim is a warning of how dangerous they are. Or something. It’s hard to work out when Hakyeon’s sober, let alone when he’s drunk and when Sanghyuk won’t stop _touching_ him.

“Yeah, whatever. Basically you’re back to square one and you don’t know why your nephilim is such a weirdo. Except now you’d totally ace a round of nephilim trivia at whatever weird-ass immortal bars you go to,” Sanghyuk says, and then presses a kiss to Hakyeon’s neck. “Can we fuck now? You look so good.”

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Hakyeon pushes Sanghyuk down on the bed and sits on top of him, splaying his hands on the human’s chest so he can’t sit up. “You’re only saying that because of _him_. If he didn’t give me so much energy I wouldn’t look like this to you.”

“Hyung, _please_ ,” Sanghyuk whines, trying to move Hakyeon’s hands. “I don’t care what it is.”

“Do you know how many times I got hit on today in the hour it took me to go grocery shopping?” Hakyeon complains, paying Sanghyuk no mind. “Ten. But that wasn’t counting the stares. Now I remember why I never let myself get this full.”

Distracted by thinking about that experience – it had just been plain embarrassing, by the end – his grip loosens, and Sanghyuk takes the opportunity to twist out from underneath Hakyeon, flipping him over and reversing their positions. He grins evilly, and Hakyeon doesn’t hold back with the eye roll this time. “I’m not fucking you, Sanghyuk. That’s literally the last thing I need right now.”

Sanghyuk stares down at him, a cocky smirk on his face, before realising that Hakyeon is serious, and then flops back down next to him with a loud sigh. “Seriously? What kind of fake incubus are you, turning down a golden opportunity like that? Next time you need a hit call someone else.”

 _Jaehwan,_ Hakyeon thinks, and then shakes his head, scrubbing his eyes like he can rid his mind of the image that way. “Nah. I’m too good. You’d come crawling back,” he says lightly, acting like nothing’s wrong, like he’s not suddenly thinking of Jaehwan’s lips on his, Jaehwan’s hand around his throat, Jaehwan’s –

“Asshole,” Sanghyuk snaps, getting off the bed, but there’s no weight to it and Hakyeon knows he doesn’t mean it properly. “Whatever. Go back to your own house and stop moping around mine. And for fuck’s sake, stop _thinking_ about him if you want to get over him.”

Hakyeon doesn’t even bother to protest that he’s not; it’s written all over his face. And he has no fucking clue what to do with the fact that he just can’t stop thinking about Jaehwan.

//

Taekwoon watches.

Taekwoon is very good at watching. It’s what he’s been doing for a while now, watching and waiting, because he is nothing if not patient. He has an eternity to accomplish his goal, after all, and if an eternity is what it takes then so be it.

The incubus spills out onto the street and Taekwoon snaps into alertness, spreading his wings silently. Even from here, up on the roof of the adjacent building, he can smell the wrongness wreathing the poor creature; the nephilim’s life force is bleeding out of its every pore, the scent washing over him and colouring everything. It’s a revolting scent that has Taekwoon shuddering, his eyes turning black, his fangs running out involuntarily.

The incubus stands there for a moment, scuffing his toes in the dirt like he’s unsure of what to do. It’s chilly now that the sun’s gone down, and with a brief flash of power that Taekwoon growls at – power fueled by _him_ – he shape shifts on a coat and starts walking, pulling out his phone to text someone.

Silently, Taekwoon lifts off the roof and glides through the air to the next rooftop, landing with a cat-like grace, following the incubus down the street. Even if he loses sight of him, it’s easy to follow him just by the stench alone; Taekwoon isn’t sure why the nephilim let the incubus feed off him, hasn’t figured that out yet. There’s a lot of things he hasn’t figured out about the nephilim, little things that niggle at him in the night, he _hates_ that, hates that this base creature can make him so frustrated.

So Taekwoon watches, and Taekwoon waits, and Taekwoon follows the little incubus down the street, somehow knowing the key to this nephilim’s undoing rests with this false immortal – _God_ only knows why. And if it kills him to figure this out, then by God’s grace he’ll die only after he sees the nephilim’s life extinguished first. But he doesn’t think it will come to that; he’s always careful, precise, only striking when he knows it will render an opponent critical, and it’s not time to strike, not yet.

Angels, after all, have an eternity.

**Author's Note:**

> it will always amuse me how I started off in fanfiction not liking to read/write AUs, and for 2 years I pretty much did exclusively canon works.
> 
> now look where I am, lmao...
> 
> I don't know why or when this got so long so i'm so sorry
> 
>  
> 
> also fun fact the title of the series was inspired by my friend saying she found jaehwan calling hakyeon 'little incubus' needlessly hot so there ya go


End file.
